Rules of Engagement
by ravenromance27
Summary: A new Don eager to learn the ways and rules of his world is given the monumental task of preparing to meet with the esteemed Vongola Famiglia. With a guidebook , a loyal vassal and an army of last minute tips ringing inside his head as his only defense against the madness that is Vongola, is there anyway for him to survive?
1. Chapter 1

**Authors Note:** I don't own KHR. Most of the time I don't even own the madness that comes out of my mind. Why I wrote this—hm…hard to tell. Only that I thought it must be quite amusing seeing how someone outside Decimo's sphere would act if they were given a survival guide and nothing else and then thrown into the arena that is the Vongola Famiglia. That's it.

* * *

**Rules of Engagement**

_**You have to learn the rules of the game. **_

_**And then you have to play better than anyone else.**_

_Albert Einstein_

* * *

It was an imposing 16th century villa that celebrated everything that was beautiful and magnificent about the renaissance. Roughly hewn stones that concealed elegantly appointed courtyards and opulent suites of rooms that housed a treasure trove of wealth accumulated through years of trade, wars and the eventual entrée into the diverse world known to the all and sundry as the Mafia.

It was certainly to this well-to-do and deeply entrenched world that the newly elected seventeenth head of the well-established, well-to-do _Corvino Famiglia_ found himself. Alessandro Valerius Corvino was a young man of thirty, gifted with grace, poise and intelligence and a face that turned heads when he ventures outside.

The born in the family of three siblings, being the only and eldest son, he has been trained from the cradle to one day take the reins of the family and become a great boss. He was a man well trained in the particulars and peculiarities of the Underworld having been subjected to its many and myriad rules of etiquette and members.

But he was not raised to be an antiquated member of his select sector. His grandparents and parents firmly believed that to survive and adapt in the fast changing world, a great and effective leader must adapt and be well-prepared. His entire family has been devoted to the cause—both personal—and professional to the Corvinos for seventeen generations. He was expected, upon his father's retirement; naturally, to continue to do what is good for the famiglia.

Classically educated in the finest boarding schools of Europe, trained and groomed in the most exclusive business universities of the world, polished with very advantage for someone who would later stand at the pinnacle of a powerful and wealthy organization, the young don was not unduly ruffled when the summons came from the head of his famiglia's alliance. He knew that he needed to establish his own relationships with the current members to the famiglia in which his own belongs to.

He was however; mightily curious as to the reason why there had to be two particular sessions necessary before his actual presentation to the main Famiglia in which their alliance belongs to. He understands the power and precedent necessary in establishing hierarchy and respects it mightily since he came from a corporate background, still the notions made him speculate. It made him hesitant and wary of the actions he was about to undertake. It didn't bode well for anyone when a simple 'meet-and-greet' becomes something tedious and all too officious by half.

It certainly didn't help one bit when the truth was that despite the young Don's education and ȕber-proper public image, he possessed a sense of humor and dry wit that never fails to amuse and bemuse those around him and it was something he kept a closely guarded secret. He wanted only to project an image of perfection and cool efficiency. His personal feeling and foibles, he believe strongly, was not for the others to view and use against him.

The morning of his first meeting with the head of his alliance, Don Corbino emerged from the master suite and was greeted by his personal valet and head of security, Mossimo Usignolo. A quiet man, wiry and instantly recognizable by his impeccably cut black suit and black wire frame glasses that concealed clever gray eyes, he has been the young don's body guard and steward since the don was five years old.

"Buongiorno, il principino."

_Good morning, little prince._

"Mossimo, smettila scherzando intorno. È ancora troppo presto, no?"

_Mossimo, stop joking around. It's too early in the morning isn't it?_

"Whatever you say, Boss."

"Right. How come I had to be boss before you agreed to everything I say?"

"Who says I will agree to everything you say?"

"Well, knowing you…"

The two of them fell into step and proceeded to the sun-filled salon where the young don has taken to eating his meals. He sat on one of the elegant wicker chairs that faced the ubiquitous Tuscan landscape and sighed.

"Breakfast?"

He spared a look at the sumptuous repast laid before him and cringed at the notion of food. No matter what he believed, being boss is not as easy as others seemed to believe. He accepted the cup of coffee Mossimo pressed against his hand and contemplated the question of dining once more.

"I wonder if I should even eat. I've been to corporate meetings knowing I'm being led to veritable sharks and felt more relaxed than I do today. It's rather pathetic for a thirty-year old to have an attack of nerves don't you think?

"I would wonder more if you ate like nothing of merit was happening today. By the by, the Advisor of the Head Alliance came by this morning and expressed his felicitations on your ascension and apologizes for his own Boss's shortcomings."

"Hmmm…indeed. I believe the Cavallone Don was out settling a turf war during my inheritance ceremony."

"That was my understanding too. No matter, he has undertaken the task of personally presenting you to the most powerful Famiglia in our world. That is an honor he doesn't confer on anyone freely. I heard that he considers the Head Famiglia and the young Don to be something of a private and personal matter to him. It is not a favor he dispenses to a whole lot of people—regardless of power and wealth."

"Then I shall consider his gift accordingly and thank him properly for it." Alessandro finally cracked a smile since waking up and winked at his companion. "I do believe I am ready to eat now Mossimo. My appetite has been fully restored."

He reached out for the plate of toast and after slathering one with enough marmalade to double its weight, took a hearty bite. He was now fully immersed in mentally reviewing other matters in his daily schedule when Mossimo cleared his throat at him meaningfully. Glancing at his valet, he absently noted the wrapped parcel in his hand.

"Do you need anything else today Mossimo?"

"Not to ruin your meal, Boss, but the Cavallone Don's gift comes in two. His Chief Advisor has left this with the request that you familiarize yourself with its content as soon as you are able and that it would be to your best advantage to learn it before you are to be presented."

Dropping his half eaten toast on his plate, the young don wiped at his mouth slowly before pinning his valet with a look, all signs of animation or humor erased from his patrician face as if they were never there.

"What precisely is that parcel Mossimo?"

"Romario of the Cavallone Famiglia called it Rules of Engagement. I believe that it contains protocols when meeting with the Head Famiglia's young Don."

The Corvino Don stared at the innocuous-looking package and felt a chill crawl up his spine. Whatever it was that it contained, it was no simple instruction or protocol. He took a final bracing sip of his morning coffee and grimaced.

"**_Rules of Engagement_**? Why ever would such a thing exist?"

"Perhaps it would be wise to find out, my lord."

"Undoubtedly Mossimo. Undoubtedly."

The parcel, once unwrapped from its bindings revealed a thick, intricately detailed and tooled leather journal written in a precise and graceful hand. The thin volume consists of seemingly chapters concentrating of rules of etiquette. With a resigned sigh, the young Corvino don turned the first few pages and began to read.

**RULES OF ENGAGEMENT**

_**Regole di ingaggio**_

**Prima Regola **

_**(Rule 1)**_

_**When meeting with the Vongola Famiglia **_

_**with the purpose of meeting and engaging Decimo, **_

_**remember that timing is everything.**_

* * *

Alessandro Corvino frowned. That this was actually rule number one seemed rather inane. Everyone with half a brain knows that there are some pointers when and when not to schedule any meetings or alliance especially with someone as powerful as the Head Famiglia, but somehow the detailed list that was given to him by the Cavallone Don seemed excessive to the point of presumptuousness to some degree. He wondered briefly if he was either being mocked or tested by the established don and spent countless minutes contemplating the very first instructions for hidden meanings or loopholes. Finding none, he wondered if perhaps, he was reading too much into the actual instruction itself.

He understood the fundamental necessity of good timing, but the rules by which the Vongola was to be met pointed to a manner idiosyncratic and extreme that it seemed almost ludicrous. He glanced at the first bulleted guide and couldn't resist snorting:

**DO NOT under any circumstance, come too early in the morning with the exception of a life and death situation you can no longer handle on your own.**

**Reference :** _Testarossa Famiglia._

"Mossimo."

"Yes, my lord?"

"Do you recall any news about the Testarossa Famiglia recently?"

"They no longer exist, my lord."

"No longer-!" he stared at his valet and tried to recall any note from his father that might have mentioned such an event, any news or piece of rumor that has filtered down the grapevine of the underworld and came up with a blank. Bemused, he posed the question hovering at the tip of his tongue.

"Have they been eradicated completely?"

"I believe so. The entire Famiglia has removed itself from all and every aspect of the Underworld, my lord. They have been out, so to speak, for nearly a year now. "

"When was this? Why haven't we heard of it—certainly I haven't heard a word or whisper of it from anyone."

"I believe the general consensus at the time was that they deserved their fates."

"Deserved their fates! Why, what manner of actuation would merit such a fate? Was it done by a rival famiglia?

"I believe the cause what that they made a very unwise and untimely move against the Head famiglia at the time and were promptly and firmly put in their place for such blatant display of audacity."

"I see. Do you know the cause for the attack?"

"The grapevine was very much alive during those days. I believe the Old Don made mention that the Testarossa attacked the villa of the Vongola's in the early morning and found death and destruction waiting there."

"Death and destruction?"

"Si. The Decimo, his guardians and I believe even the Decimo's family both biological and extended were in residence at the time of the attack. The Decimo's Chief Advisor, the former Sun Arcobaleno's Reborn was also there and was reported to be the main instigator of the retaliation."

"The cause…did they know the reason for it?"

"The Testarossa's reason was simple greed and stupidity. They never placed much stock in the strength of Vongola's Decimo back then. The main cause for retaliating, however, was not the attack in itself, but rather what the attack incited. I believe the final report stated that the Chief Advisor resented exceedingly having his breakfast interrupted by the assassination plot."

"His breakfast was interrupted and he retaliated by wiping out an entire famiglia?" he muttered in disbelief and wondered if the rumors about the tempestuous nature of the former Arcobaleno and famed hitman was actually a tamer version of the truth.

"Apparently the Sun Arcobaleno is very fond of his morning brew and grows a tad aggressive when he is denied it."

"I-i see...I suppose the entire famiglia is dead-"

"No, my lord. Aside from the financial compensation demanded by the Arcobaleno from the Famiglia, the casualities were minor and none were, according to the report, life threatening. Apparently, the young Vongola Decimo frowns upon anything that resulted in lethal results."

"Then why have their family's operations ceased in its entirety? Surely the head of the Testarossa Famiglia did not simply give up everything in his organization? His group could've asked him to step down and let a new leader take control and negotiate with the Vongola."

"Ideally, I suppose that could've been done if there were funds available for a new regime to take over."

"The Testarossa Famiglia has holdings all over Naples and Rome. They are not wealthy as the Cavallone—few are—but surely they are not destitute?"

"Well after attack on the Vongola stronghold they certainly didn't have much to go on with. The retaliation the Sun Arcobaleno devised was masterful and the compensation he demanded for not hunting down the head famiglia was more than sizable and the cost of repairing the ruined villa was also undertaken by the Testarossa Famiglia. Add to that the cost of paying for the hospital bill of every single one of their registered members and the Testarossa was left pretty much bankrupt. The Arcobaleno may not have killed them, but they certainly didn't leave much after all his demands were met."

"I see...brilliant in a way...masterfully clever and ever more so efficient. The Sun Arcobaleno is a formidable ally to the Head Famiglia."

"Many thought so too, at the time."

"What did the alliance do?"

"What any smart man in that give situation ought to—every famiglia that owed alliance to the Vongola sent the Sun Arcobaleno enough coffee beans, presses and espresso machines to fill an airplane hangar. Rumor has it, the Vongola mansion has a room designated for such emergencies so that a similar case will not occur again."

'Did my-"

"But of course, my lord. Your father was a smart man."

"Good. Remind me to do the same when we come calling."

"Very good decision, my lord."

* * *

_**Seconda Regola**_

_(Rule 2)_

_**Security is something they take seriously.**_

_**When you must meet with Decimo in Italy, contact CEDEF. **_

_**Then his Chief Advisor.**_

_**If he agrees with your request, you will be vetted by**_

_**his Storm Guardian or Rain guardian.**_

_**When you meet with him in Japan, follow protocol.**_

_**Contact the Storm Guardian. **_

_**He will then ask the Rain or Sun Guardian to vet your request.**_

_**They will contact the Foundation on your behalf. **_

_**If you pass, the Foundation will let you know.**_

* * *

It was the second day since he received his 'code of conduct' and still Alessandro Corvino couldn't decide if he should throw the thin volume away in disgust. The notations, written in what he assumed to be the Cavallone Don's hand was fluid and clear, though their contents, in his opinion, left much to be desired.

Today he was in his study, furiously tapping at his laptop trying his damnedest to find any clue as to what exactly this so-called Foundation was. Efficient as he was at researching, and already succumbing to the assistance of his available resources, it frustrates him in no small measure to find nothing—not even a small mention—anywhere of anything regarding this so called Foundation that was supposed to vet his ability to meet with the Vongola heir.

He knows of the CEDEF and understood the protocol. He even understood why he needed all the necessary channels in Italy—but even in Japan, the country where the Decimo was born—the protocols where even more stringent!

Irritated, he called for his valet and made his dissatisfaction known. Mossimo would understand his ire, he knew and would give him a fresher perspective on the matter.

"Mossimo, what in the bloody hell is this Foundation the Cavallone Don mentioned? I tried searching for it, I even asked our intelligence group and they have absolutely nothing for me. What have you learned?"

Mossimo cocked an eyebrow at his young master's belligerent tone as he poured him a glass of wine. He handed him the wine and replied simply. "What makes you believe I will know something when you don't and apparently, cannot, my lord?"

He gave a snort and took a small sip of his wine, "The day you don't know anything about something is the day this famiglia collapses. The Usignolo family has been the Corvino familiglias loyal seneschals. You are quite literally the shadow we cast. Now spill what you know Mossimo."

"That would be undoubtedly messy, my lord. Not to mention the fact that it would take me years to—er, spill—metaphorically, of course, everything that your lordship demands."

"Mossimo-!"

"Ah yes, the Foundation. I believe that is the organization in charge of betting any foreign group or party coming into the town of Namimori."

Alessandro gave a short shout of laughter. "A security group for the small town where he grew up in?!" He nearly spilled the wine in his glee and had to surreptitiously wipe at the small spill he made on the antique desk before Mossimo's sharp eyes caught it before chuckling merrily, "The Vongolas' have such eccentric habits, don't they. How positively quaint. I wonder how such a small company could be more effective than their very own CEDEF."

"I wonder at that too. Perhaps you could put it to a test."

"You know what, Mossimo, that's a great plan. Let us see what this little quaint Foundation can do."

Three days later, three letters of rejection turned up in the doorway of the Corvino Famiglia stronghold. Their request to come and see the town had been politely declined and each time it was on the basis of some weakness in their security that they never actually realized until it was cuttingly and coldly pointed out by a security group that was nowhere even near the Famiglia headquarters.

Bemused, he sent a request effectively inviting the Vongola Decimo to join him in his summer home. In his wickedly inventive and mischievous mood, Alessandro conveniently forgot to add any address to the invite, stating simply that it was somewhere in France.

Two days after a small envelop of documents arrived at the Palazzo Corvino. In the packet was a detailed aerial view of his private cul-de-sac, complete with the titles and proof of ownership he had signed two years past, papers and legal documentation he certainly never filed personally since he has ostensibly placed the property under a different name and never mentioned it to anyone outside his immediate family. The packet also included a blueprint of the house's structure down to its very foundation and a meticulously listed and itemized bill for the cost of finding out where his summer home was.

Along with all the fairly alarming amount of information was a small pale lavender card written with a very short and succinct message:

_**The Foundation knows and sees all. Now pay the damned bill. Or I will bite you to death.**_

"Charming" Alessandro muttered glumly and stared at the package once more. It was then that he noticed that Mossimo was coming up to him with a piece of paper he later recognized as a bank draft.

"Mossimo, what is the meaning of this?"

"My lord, your eyesight is excellent, they cannot have failed you yet. As you can fairly ascertain yourself, it is a bank draft paying for services rendered by the Foundation."

"Mossimo, tell me, in your infinite wisdom, whatever gave you the idea that I would actually pay for this travesty?"

"My lord, when you asked me what the Foundation was, I believed I mentioned that it was run by a small independent security group in Namimori, the town where the Vongola Decimo was born."

"I know all that. What I don't know is why you are actually making me pay for their temerity in scavenging through the private details of my life."

"Sir, you told them you are planning to invite Decimo. It is their job to know where he goes and what he is to expect there."

'It was a test—"

"And they passed splendidly."

"Annoyingly."

"Sir, I suppose I should add one more detail to the Foundation's information, though certainly didn't think it was relevant."

"I seriously doubt it would matter to me, Mossimo."

"The Foundation is run by the Vongola Decimo's Cloud Guardian. He is said to be the most unforgiving of all his guardians"

"And so?"

" Must I point out that this is also the man who found out where your private cul-de-sac was in less than 48 hours with nothing more to go on than that it was somewhere in France. It would require no stretch of imagination to think how effectively he could make a fuss should you refute his claim for payment."

"I suppose I do owe him for services rendered."

"I believe that is, indeed, quite the thing, my lord."


	2. Chapter 2

**Authors Note**: I seriously didn't expect the feedback—or that many a response. Only goes to show—sometimes writing can be a serious crapshoot. Whenever I plan out a story, it ends up kicking me and leaving me high and dry. Whenever I give in to weird musings and let random madness come out, people read them. What's up with that?

Thank you. I whine. I complain. But I am grateful and so I thank you. All of you who read, snorted, chortled and smiled throughout this tale. Here's to me, enjoying the image of someone out there with coffee shooting out of their nose because of something I wrote. Best image ever.

* * *

**Rules of Engagement **

_Second Act_

**"Life's a game, all you have to do, is know how to play it."**

* * *

Officially, Alessandro Valerius Corvino, 17th successor to the Corvino Famiglia, is resting in splendor at his family's official seat of power after the rigors and demands of his Inheritance ceremony. With an established famiglia such as his whose line of power had been uninterrupted and uncontested since its founding, it was taken as only natural that the newest boss would take time to familiarize himself with new alliances, review his staff and make plans before plunging right into business. There was no rush, no vacuum that must be filled immediately, no pressing state of affairs that needed swift and often impetuous actions.

Ostensibly, however, this was the convenient excuse the Corvino heir is using to explain why he was currently cloistered in his family's oldest mansion. He could hardly tell anyone—save his Mossimo, of course—that he was ordered—quite literally—under house arrest by his grandfather, his father and his famiglia's Head of alliance—with the specific instruction that he cannot proceed with any further dealings until the matter of his presentation with the Head of their Famiglia is completed.

And so here he was, one week into his confinement, sequestered in his study, fed and kept under the watchful eye of his valet, bodyguard, general factotum Mossimo. He glared at him the moment he noticed his presence. The man looked chipper than a canary that knew he was the one playing with the cat.

"Buongiorno, Padrone. Che cosa ti piacerebbe per la prima colazione_?" __Good morning , Boss. What would you like for breakfast?_

"La tua testa su una lancia." _Your head on a spear_

He knows that Mossimo would pick up on his mood immediately but he was in no frame of mind to censure his tongue. Business dealings he could do and devote limitless time and energy on, but this vague presentation was starting to grate on his nerve. He wonders still why there seemed to be too many things he should simply master. And in this case, none of it seemed relevant or even logical.

"A bit bloody, don't you think for morning repast, my lord? Shall I prepare your usual dishes then?"

"No."

"You need to eat. How goes the studying, my lord?"

He glared at his manservant as the man pulled at one of the old-fashion bell-pulls that sent a message through the mansions kitchen.

"Traditore."_Traitor_

"Harsh and quite untrue. Did you wake up on the wrong side of the bed again, my lord? Perhaps a cappuccino to settle your temper?"

He threw his hands in the air. Since he woke up, his head aching from trying to decipher the notations in the leather journal that was quickly becoming the bane of his existence, he wondered how his smooth transition from would-be successor to head became so complicated. And now, even his father and grandfather is ringing him up to constantly nag him about it. He cast a glowering look at Mossimo when he finished conferring with the kitchen maid that appeared in his study.

"Come si fa a ditegli di tutte le persone?!" _How can you tell him of all people?!_

Mossimo gave him an eloquent look as if seriously contemplating his sanity. Thirty years old or not, the man could reduce him to a flustered boy with just a look. Chagrined, he sulked further into his leather seat and glared instead, at the hapless volume he tossed in a fit of temper down on his desk.

"Egli è tuo padre. Ha chiesto. Ho avuto a rispondere." _He is your father. He asked. I had to answer him._

The maid finally returned and wheeled in an antique silver cart that carried covered dishes and a carafe of steaming coffee. Mossimo immediately prepared his drink and placed the exquisite bone china on his desk. Gingerly, he reached out and took a sip of the scalding liquid, thankful for the enervating shot of caffeine. His voice, no longer petulant, asked another question.

"E mio nonno?" _And my grandfather?_

"What about him?" His manservant busied himself setting his morning repast on one of the other tables scattered in his study.

"Mossimo…don't toy with me so early in the morning. You know very well that I am not at my best when I have less than seven hours of sleep in me."

The man simply gave him a glint and a sigh and continued with his work. He waited until Alessandro roused himself sufficiently to sitt in front of the meal before he responded.

"Il vecchio Don chiesto a tuo padre. Tuo padre ha dovuto rispondergli." _The old don asked your father. Your father had to answer him_.

Alessandro snorted. He knows that truth all too well. In his family, they don't bother with threats. Asking someone directly _**was**_ perceived and understood as a threat.

"Naturalmente." _Of course._

"So where are you now on the rules, my lord?"

He gestured with his fork and was rewarded by an admonishing look from Mossimo. He swallowed his first bite of bread. He opened the book he remembered to keep close to him and started reading aloud.

* * *

**Terza Regola**

_(Rule 3)_

**Utilizing Key Personnel is paramount. **

_Avoiding troublesome complications is a sign of experience. Knowing who to speak with and who to avoid is also par for the course. And never more true than with the unpredictable and fairly colorful members of the Head Famiglia's inner core._

_Aside from his personal guardians, his Chief Adviser and his External Advisor, the Vongola Head is usually surrounded by a host of other individuals who comprise the far-reaching and diverse network of personnel that make up the Decimo's private entourage._

**For added information please refer to the index at the back.**

"Who do you think he has in that list Mossimo?"

"I would not be averse to finding that out myself, my lord. Perhaps we should do as the Cavallone Don suggested and check said index."

Alessandro drained the last mouthful of coffee from his cup and nodded.

"No better time than the present I suppose."

He turned to the last few pages in the journal and saw a small smattering of profiles. The list comprised of names and a brief description of each individual. Amused and curious all the same, he started to read aloud the list.

"Trident Shamal." Mossimo gave a short nod. "Now, that's a familiar name."

* * *

**Trident Shamal**

_When seeking an introduction with Decimo do not under pain of death, use this man. Considering this man as your sponsor is like consigning yourself and your interest to some deranged mad scientist. He is more likely to use you as a subject for his medical experiments. However, his presence also instills a sense of security for the current head since there is practically few-if any at all-malaise or malady this doctor could not cure. His presence is also a major deterrent against assassins who would seek out to bring down the Head Famiglia using biological weaponry since up until recently there has been no reported casualty in the Head Famiglia from any type of questionable illness. There have been, however, many lawsuits regarding indecent behavior and harassment. _

**Special Note: Do not engage any female staff when this particular personnel is present.**

* * *

Mossimo pursed his lips and cleared his throat. "I suppose that means we cannot invite your sister or your personal assistant to accompany us."

"Definitely." Alessandro turned to the next page and his brows furrowed. "Poisoned Scorpion Bianchi."

Mossimo gave out a small nod indicating he was also aware of the name. "She used to be independent but the grapevine confirms that she has been prominently in the Vongola now, like Shamal himself."

"Does the Head require a lot of assassins at his disposal?"

"According to the ripples we've caught over the years, they do not contract as freely as before. They were noted as members of the Head's household but nothing else."

Alessandro bent his head to read the short notation.

* * *

**Poison Scorpion Bianchi**

_She will occasionally offer refreshments to new guests to the mansion. Take this warning and learn to decline every and all offering from this beautiful woman unless you wish to personally see what ever organ that resides inside of you looks like when you have to forcibly chuck them out. If you consume any meal she prepares, I can guarantee you they will come out—and do so painfully. _

_When you do encounter the beautiful scorpion, do not comment on her attire should she appear wearing goggles or garments that partially obscure her face. There is an explanation for it but it is too convoluted for the sane mind. Safest route with this personnel is to simply decline her cooking._

* * *

"Does she cook her targets?"

"I believe she uses her dishes as weapons. There had been reports that her cookies could melt through concrete."

"I-i-I see."

He stared at the journal warily and wondered if the material is toxic in anyway but he knows full well no mail arrives at the mansion without being thoroughly tested and put through its paces—chemical, biological, electronic and the like. He turned another page and stared at the next name.

It was one both infamous and familiar. One of the most coveted personalities in their world whose location has never been known despite exhaustive searches that lasted nearly half a decade.

* * *

**Ranking Prince Fuuta**

_If you are invited to the Vongola Mansion, please be advised that it does not give you leave to ask the ranking prince any information you desire to know. The ranking prince is under the Head Famiglia's and more specifically the personal protection of the Vongola Decimo himself and any perceived threat on his behalf are normally personally attended to by the Head himself. The ranking prince is considered 'Terra Incognita' for the Vongola Decimo. Take this warning to heart for the head and his guardians are fiercely protective of this young man._

_It you are, however, lucky enough to be close at hand when the prince does one of his rankings, please secure all personal property and effects since very little remains immune to the zero-gravity field generated by the Ranking Star. The head famiglia has declined all lawsuits and complaints ranging from nausea to shock to simply loss of consciousness._

* * *

"Mossimo, did my father know? That the head famiglia had **_him_**?"

"I don't believe anyone knew where he was, my lord. For some time, many believed the rumors floating around—that he was kept under lock and key by the Vendice for his own good, that he has lost his gift and that he was in some disclosed location somewhere living a quiet life."

"And all this time, he has been with the head _famiglia_. I wonder if that's one of the reason they've become so powerful…"

"It would not be surprising to know that the head _famiglia_ utilizes all the information at their disposal."

"And yet I don't think that's what's happening here. The notation seem to imply that the head famiglia values the ranking prince—not his ranking."

"Well idle speculation is useless unless we meet with the young man himself."

"If we meet with him."

"Indeed. If."

* * *

_The Decimo also employs skilled engineers that come in and out of the mansion. __**IF**__ they are present when you visit, the Head may introduce them. Do not be alarmed if one of them offers you a lollipop or shows a face that shimmers and glimmers in a disturbing fashion. However, if one offers you a box, simply decline politely. Should you also ever encounter pink smoke emerging from any room, DO NOT pay any particular mind. Keep your calm and someone will be along to give you sufficient explanation._

* * *

"Mossimo, you know, if I didn't know better, I'd say the Decimo is mad. And that the Cavallone Don is mad as a hatter too. This dossier is—unusual to say the least."

"Maybe that's the reason he felt you needed it before you actually meet any of them. Think of the disaster then if we entered that world stark raving blind."

"Point and logic as always Mossimo."

"But of course, my lord."

"I wonder if there is more…"

"Hm…I admit I am curious as well, my lord. They are rather colorful."

"I wonder if they have any family—ah! Here we are. I was looking forward to knowing about the head's family."

_There will, of course, instances when the Decimo's family would also be in attendance, but these in conjunction with Mafia business, would be far and few in between. The Head of the Famiglia is an intensely private man. _

_However, should one be lucky enough to meet with certain females within the Head Famiglia's group, one should exercise the courtliest of all mannerisms that is in one's employ—especially regarding the Decimo's mother. Being a gracious and kind soul, it is not unusual for this singular woman to offer you sustenance—DO NOT DECLINE. No matter what happens, find a way not to offend this woman because the consequences are beyond DIRE. I cannot express the severity of how DIRE. Apocalyptic is a word that is usually reserved for the kind of casualty that would be unleashed should this woman ever shed tears._

"That is…Mossimo…"

"Yes, my lord."

"Please find out from Romario of the Cavallone what flowers the Decimo's lady mother prefers and see that we send her some as soon as possible."

"Of course my lord."

"And see that my own lady mother receives a gift too."

"Of course my lord."

"You have to give it to a man who prioritizes his mother."

"Especially ones that could bring about something so catastrophic as apocalypse."

"Indeed."

After lunch, Alessandro decided to tackle the journal once more. He noted that the index had another section to it and curiosity made him read it aloud as Mossimo served him his afternoon coffee and biscotti.

"You seem to enjoy reading that, my lord."

"You must admit they are a rather colorful bunch for wisemen. They are unusual, even in our world and I am man enough to admit to being intrigued by the need for a virtual rule of engagement just to meet them."

"There is that. Certainly no one else in the entire alliance requires such a thing."

"There you have it."

* * *

**Regola Personale Speciale**

_Personnel Advisory_

**Arcobaleno**

_At any given time, former members of the famed Arcobaleno would drop in at the Head Famiglia's mansion. It would be in your best interest to remain calm as no one can quite predict whatever madness they bring when they are about. You have been warned._

_If you meet the former Arcobaleno Verde—do not volunteer for any experiments because we will not be held responsible so be warned._

_If you meet the former Arcobaleno Fong—smile and be polite. He is one of the safest otherwise be careful because we will not be held responsible so be warned._

_If you meet the former Arcobaleno Skull—do not pay attentions to his boastings, naggings, claims or cries or distress because we will not be held responsible so be warned._

_If you meet the former Arcobaleno Mamon—do not to any wager or make requests unless you have unlimited financial backing because we will not be held responsible so be warned._

_If you meet the former Arcobaleno Colonello—do not pay attention to his curses, complaints or military orders because we will not be held responsible so be warned._

_If you meet the former Arcobaleno Reborn—be warned because even Decimo will not be held responsible for anything he does. EVER. Reborn is a law unto himself._

* * *

"Mossimo…how should I-?"

"I would take that advice sir."

"I suppose that's the only sound advice that could be undertaken. I am not foolish enough to argue with someone familiar with the Arcobaleno's to know how to react to their foibles."

"Excellent decision my lord. By the by, there is a dinner invitation for you tonight. The Avvoltoio Famiglia is hosting."

"Ah yes, I have accepted that invitation on father's behalf. Remind me to make preparations."

"As you wish, my lord.

Alessandro glanced at a few more notations in the journal before sealing the volume in his study's vault for the night. He needed to think of a suitable gift to bring for the night's celebration. The Avvoltoio famiglia's head was a senior in school and he recalls that the man favored wines. Time perhaps, to pay a visit to his cellar.

* * *

Later in the evening, amidst the glittering crowds and throng of elegantly clad guests a series of sounds brought him to a standstill. Mossimo, of course, noted his sudden silence and tension.

"My lord?"

"Mossimo…do you hear those voices?"

"I doubt if anyone in the room failed to, my lord. They are rather boisterous. What is your interest in the—er—disruptors?"

"I think the journal mentioned them—or something quite like them. Find out who they are will you?"

"Immediately, my lord."

He had dismissed the journal as something outrageous and perhaps foolish but now, as if his conscience recorded the sound of his own voice reciting the lines aloud, the passage came to him out of nowhere.

**_Should at any time you come upon the mansion and hear these sounds, terminate the appointment and send immediate note or messages conveying your regret and promptly reschedule._**

**VOI**

"_Voiiiiiiiiii! Did I tell you to remove the wine you fucking retard? And why did you eat everything on the damned fucking plate? Are you starving or something you damned freak! Bel! Get this fucking frog someone else's food will you?"_

_**That's one.**_

**USHI, SHI**

"_Ushi-shi-shi…damned shark. His Highness does not deal directly with servants. His Highness has servants to deal with other servants! You Levi! Deal with this frog and remove him from His Highness' presence!"_

_**That's two.**_

**TRASH**

"_If you fucking trash don't shut your trap I will shoot you where you stand. I didn't come here to listen to you trashy retards and I certainly am not in the mood to start now. So deal with it quickly you fucking trashy prince or I will use that crown to strangle you."_

_**And that's three.**_

"My lord?"

"What did you find Mossimo?"

"I believe they are members of the Varia sir."

"Varia. I should've known."

No wonder the advice for anc immediate termination of contact. No one commands the independent assassination group of the Vongola. Not even, they speculated, the current head himself. However, no one wanted to the theory to the test.

**_Please be careful to note the following sounds/phrases as these hints might make the difference between staying alive and sane and descending into utter chaos and madness. When you hear any or all of these trigger phrases-there is only one action necessary-RETREAT. If retreat becomes impossible, then stay absolutely still and stay as unobtrusive as possible. Do not attempt to flee, prevaricate or bluff your way into anything. Like packs of wild beasts of prey, they smell fear and love the chase._**

"My lord? Is anything the matter?"

"Nothing that oblivion cannot fix."

"My lord?"

"I am seriously beginning to find that journal creepy Mossimo."

"Hm. Imagine meeting them without it."

"I stand corrected. I am beginning to think we need to make a copy that journal for future Corvinos."

"I'll see to it at once, my lord."


	3. Chapter 3

Authors Note: 'Thank you' should be written in the Guinness Book of World Records as the most overly-used, under-appreciated, complex and inexplicable word in the history of man. It encompasses too many things, too little emotion and too much intent.

I apologize for the delay and for the fact that this is a bit—well—obnoxiously boring. I will make another chapter as soon as I can and I will try to muster up the same sarcastic vein that gave birth to the other two. Real life, when it intrudes upon the creative, is an annoying pain in the butt.

* * *

**REASONS and BENEDICTIONS**

_**I to think I've discovered the secret of life - you just hang around until you get used it.**_

_- Charles Schulz_

* * *

The sleek lines of a beautiful black sedan proclaimed its mechanical superiority and pride at its impeccable engineering prowess as it sliced silently through the lush, picturesque landscape of the countryside, eating up the long, empty distance with enviable ease. Inside the expectedly lavish interior, two men sat upon butter-soft cream leather with cool indifference, the whole of their attention consumed by what any outside observer would obviously state as an intense and tension-filled staring contest.

The two men were a study in contrast. Though both were blessed with classically handsome aquiline features, their expressions were certainly set in opposing mindsets. Blond, athletic looking and clad in the very first stare of fashion, the first occupant kept his own brilliant blue eyes trained on the man sitting in front of him with a slight smile on his thin lips. His unwitting partner in this unusual tête-à-tête, ebony haired, olive skinned and patrician featured, however stared back with wary, assessing green-gold hazel eyes and lips kept firmly in line.

"_Una lira per i vostri pensieri_?" A lira for your thoughts.

"_Si potrebbe certamente spendere più di quello." _You might certainly end up spending more than that.

"_Dimmi ciò che è veramente nella tua mente.__Voglio che non ci siano segreti tra noi." _Tell me what is truly in your mind. I want that there be no secrets between us.

Eyes the color of leaves shot by the dappled rays of the sun narrowed in thought and wariness. The statement—softly spoken and accompanied by an inviting smile could easily be mistaken for what it appeared to be—an indication of camaraderie. Nothing suggested that it was not as it seemed but neither was it the kind of thing one takes at face value.

_No one in their right mind would spill their secrets and share confidences willy-nilly just because someone says so._

Taking a deep breath and letting it ease past tense lips in a silent hiss, he closed his eyes briefly and considered how to best frame his response. Alessandro Valerius, 17th Head of the Corvino Famiglia mustered the rest of his resolve, opened his eyes and stared frankly at his erstwhile companion.

"_Perché hai scelto me_?" Why did you choose me

"Why does my choice bother you?"

"You are never foolish—not in matters of our world. You are a legend—the man who pulled the Cavallone from the brink to turn it into the position of being one of the most powerful famiglia ever. Many courted your favor and curried your indulgence and yet—to date—you have endorsed less than ten famiglias for the consideration of the most powerful one of us all."

"You are still suspicious that I would demand your very life's blood as my payment?"

"I'm realistic enough to know that if you desire it, my life's blood wouldn't even amount to much."

"_Questo è vero." _That is true.

"So tell me. Please."

Dino reached out and tapped the privacy screen that separated the passengers from the driver's side. The scree slid with a discreet hiss revealing the familiar silhouette of the Cavallone Famiglia's Head Advisor.

"_Che cosa avete bisogno, Padrone_?" What do you need Boss

"_Romario, il file per favore."_ The file please.

Alessandro watched as the man who once came into his home to deliver a very unusual volume handed over a thick manila folder to his boss, gave a nod in his direction and slid the partition close without another word.

"If you wish to know the reason why I have—what was it—condescend—to endorse you, the reasons are in here."

"A dossier on me?"

"On your entire famiglia since its inception."

"The—what—why? How did you—!"

"The ways how are immaterial, the indignation you feel, I assure you, would pass. The why—I would tell you now."

Alessandro stared at the fashionably disheveled and thoroughly disreputable-looking man that sat in front of him and felt another shiver crawl up his spine—though this one was definitely not due to some acute sense that he might be dealing with a capricious man with the inclinations of a child. No, this time his shivering body was covered in a fine layer of sweat as he realized that no one who looked and acted like the Cavallone Don could and would have lasted as long as he did, reached as high as he did, and commanded as much wealth and power as he did without learning a trick or ten at being cunning.

"But first call me Dino. If we are to establish good relations between our famiglia's from now on, then I suggest that you begin by learning to address me by my given name. Outside the stuffy, antiquated ceremonies demanded from us, I try as much as I am able, not to be too formal."

Clearly flustered, the young Don didn't know just quite how to respond and for a few minutes, all he did was open his lips and swallow nervously. He shifted on his seat and tried smoothing down his shirt only to realize that it was his pajama top.

"I-I s-see. Of course."

Alessandro wanted to resist the urge to fidget. Really he did. But it was kind of impossible given his current situation. He mustered every ounce of his control and waited for the man who seemingly held his future in his hand to speak.

"It's true that I very rarely endorse anyone to the Head Famiglia. And despite rampant rumors, it's not because I wish to keep myself in a rarified position. The only truth you need to know is that I make my choices very rarely because I consider the man at the head famiglia as my little brother and I wish to shield him from those who would use him and his power excessively."

"You are doing this to protect him?"

"In a nutshell. I endorse very few because the man who leads the head famiglia is a man of deep compassion and decency. He will not deal with people whose businesses and practices indulge in the depravity of man. He will not allow himself to cause even more darkness to be born in our world."

"Is the man standing at the top of our world a dreaming fool?"

Alessandro bit back the urge to swear once the words were out but he knew deep inside that what he said was only the truth. He was raised in the Underworld. He knew many who not only indulged in the depravities of man—they encouraged and reveled in it. He could not fathom how such a man could now stand above all of them with his lofty ideals of perfection.

"He is not foolish—merely determined."

Alessandro winced at the sharp censure delivered with such measured tones. Even he—practical, seemingly stoic businessman that he is—could tell that the man sitting in front of him was exerting enormous amount of control not to snap his spine. Lips parting, he started to speak when an impatient wave of a hand stalled his words.

"Do not apologize. Your reaction is no different from all the other famiglia heads I have thus endorsed. And like them, they also wondered at what my little brother was thinking when he issued that promise. However, the truth is, he is determined to do his leadership his way. Thus the reason for the existence of your famiglia's dossier."

"You investigated us before you gave your endorsement."

"Naturally."

"And what made us pass? What made me worthy?"

Dino made a production of opening the files and moving his right index finger down a page before looking up and catching sight of the young Don warily sneaking glances at him. He gave the man a faint smile and nearly chortled when the don paled even more.

"No need to be nervous. You passed because your family is not involved in any activity that oppressed children, women or anyone else. You do not profit from suffering, not peddle drugs or guns or wars. You have legitimate businesses that simply employ your security force to protect your investments but never to do anyone any harm."

Alessandro stared at the man sitting in front of him with the expression of faint chagrin and incredulity. Of all the reasons he thought of and came up with—he was picked—

"I was chosen because I was a clean-living, tax paying mob?!"

"You make it sound like that's a bad thing."

"No, I'm not saying—it's just that in our world reputation is everything and to be damned by faint praise and endorsed because my family is decent—is a bit—!"

"The man that stands at the top of our world is bound and determined to change it. He doesn't want the shadows of our past nor the blood-stained histories that came before. He wants a world where those who join us, do so because they share of our goals, our beliefs."

Alessandro looked once more at the man sitting in front of him and realized that he was in earnest. This fashionably clad, delinquent looking mob boss wanted the same thing as the mysterious man than commands fear and respect throughout their world and determined to do what he could do achieve that dream. Alessandro always believed that his grandfather and father were smart to 'clean up' the family business because it was the only way to survive the changing times. Now he wonders if perhaps, his own progeny had wanted a different world for him to live in.

"I see. I will not say I don't understand where he is coming from, nor will I dismiss his desires—but I hope he knows that the battle ahead of him would be long, arduous and often unrewarding."

"He knows that well enough. The people around him remind him of it constantly."

"Must be a burden on them too."

"Actually, I think they enjoy it."

"You can't be serious."

"Of course I am, why do you think I had to make that journal?"

"I had thought because you were bored and trying to scare me to death."

"Well…there is that."

The smile that painted the pale thin lips after he spoke was positively evil. Alessandro wondered if the man practiced such a thing in front of the mirror to achieve the maximum effect. He was certainly proof positive that the sight caused a faint chill to crawl up his spine.

"Why did you send me that manual? I understood that, of all the members of the alliance to which my _famiglia_ belongs, it is your endorsement that is most sought after and the one that is most difficult to obtain. And yet, within months of my inheritance ceremony, I received word of your intention to give me your blessing—I confess that I was apprehensive at what cost such a largess from you would entail, Don Cavallone."

"Are you asking me Don Corvino what it is I intend to gain by giving you such a gift?"

"As rude as that may seem…a man in my position cannot afford to be fuzzy about such matters."

"No one would ever accuse a man of your learning and reputation to be fuzzy."

"And no one would ever accuse a man of your reputation of doing something so plainly fickle and addlepated because you have nothing better to do and that a stray thought caught your hair in a tizzy."

"Really? Actually I seem to recall at least two people who said that about me whenever I did some things."

"Only two? Are you sure there isn't an entire continent out there filled with people with somewhat similar complaints?"

"An entire continent? That seems excessive, don't you think?"

"Don Cavallone, I ask this question with every ounce of diplomacy and tact at my disposal and I am hoping that you will not take undue offense—but are you sure you are not just the tiniest bit insane?"

Alessandro had to bite back the urge to swear when the man had the temerity to blink and ask with convincing innocence.

"Oh now why would you say that?"

"Oh, I don't know—the fact that you kidnapped me from my home whilst clad in nothing more than a pair of pajamas no one other than my valet should ever see?"

"Pshaw! That's nothing. Perfectly decent thing and it covers everything pertinent doesn't it?"

Dino wanted to resist the urge to laugh outrightly at the man who was clearly fighting the urge to say something scathing to his face. He knew the man had reason enough—after all, he dragged the man out of the comfort of his home at the crack of dawn giving no quarter for explanations, excuses or even the decency of providing the man a cup of coffee.

All in all, the man was displaying remarkable control and serenity in the face of such mad actuations. It sealed the deal as far as he was concerned and made teasing the man all the more enjoyable.

"Don Cavallone, that is hardly the point here and you know it—please!"

"Are you alright, young raven. Don't you have any other questions for me?"

"A few. But before I do—will you please drive me back to my mansion? I'm getting cold and I normally have breakfast by now and if I'm not in my room when Mossimo comes, he'll over-react and that would be problematic."

"Because you might find yourself waging war on some hapless neighbor?"

"That would be the least of my annoyance."

"Then what worries you?"

"That he would tell my father that I actually got myself kidnapped from my own room, from the depths of my own famiglia's stronghold, dragged through my own front door, by the head of my own famiglia's bloody alliance. I would rather declare war on some hapless neighbor than for him to know this fiasco and live to remind me about it every single time he sees my face."

"Oh…"

"Well…?"

"I suppose this situation is my fault…."

"Now, WHATEVER gave YOU that idea?"


	4. Chapter 4

**Authors Note**: No, nothing has changed. KHR isn't mine and let's admit it—it could never be mine. Real life has once again intruded and made mincemeat of my ideas. Sadly I will be taking a short vacation for 2 weeks but I have already drafted the end of this tale. Now whether that would take 2 chapters or 1 is something I am leaving to the discretion of my fickle-minded, lazy ass of a Muse. Who, like the two main characters in "Good Omens", could be infinitely generous with assistance while being viciously ingenious in providing me with mental blocks when I so desperately needed my creative juices flowing.

To those who have read, laughed, snorted and frowned uncomprehendingly over this piece of work, my eternal gratitude. You have given me a gift for which there is simply not enough words.

* * *

**Driving and Dealing with the Devil**

_**Each player must accept the cards life deals him or her: **_

_**But once they are in hand, he or she alone must decide **_

_**How to play the cards in order to win the game.**_

_Voltaire_

* * *

Four hours later, amidst the cool, shadowed recesses of a speeding limousine's luxurious interior, two men of contrasts once again sat. This time however, the contrast is not in their sartorial tastes but rather in the set lines of their expressions and body language that conveyed a myriad of emotions spanning the spectrum.

The younger of the two, clearly distracted and not at all as calm as the picture he presented, sat listlessly as he stares, unseeing at the passing scenery. His hands, held captive in his lap, moved with nervous energy, one clutching a small slim volume with his long fingers, the other tapping a staccato rhythm of flips and flicks with varying regularity.

Absently glancing down at his hands, Alessandro was contemplating switching the thin volume he held to his under hand, fingers still tapping along when a heavy, scar-laden land landed on top of his and stilled any further movement. Surprised, he turned olive gold eyes towards his recently silent co-passenger and blinked at the barely leashed anger that greeted him when the man spoke.

"_Smettila. Si tratta disconveniente di un capo di uomini a tradire i suoi nervi a tutti "._

Stop that. It is unbecoming of a leader of men to betray his nerves to everyone

The words were softly spoken but they might as well have been shouted for all the impact it had within the closed confines of the vehicle. The man who spoke wore a nondescript black suit with a narrow black tie held firmly in place by a golden tie-bar engraved with the Corvino seal. His face, aged and lined by the unforgiving Tuscan sun and weathered by experience and life, wore an expression of chagrin and simmering anger not normally seen by anyone.

Taking a deep breath, he slowly pulled his hands away from the man he would've bet his entire inheritance wasn't the type to snipe at him so malevolently. He pinned his valet with an even look from beneath his lashes and when he spoke his voice, to his own surprise, was gentle. Now was not the time to be flippant.

"If you have something to say to me Mossimo, now would be an excellent time to do it."

"_Come potreste permettere a voi stessi di essere sottoposto a tale vergogna?"_

How could you allow yourself to be subjected to such shameful display

The man growled at him. That much was a break in Mossimo's very nature. The man usually had a much more glib tongue. But even with that surprise he didn't miss a beat.

"Shouldn't I be lodging that accusation at you and the guards under your command?"

The chagrined flush that washed across Mossimo's face and the spark of anguish and helpless rage that flashed in the man's dark eyes almost made him regret allowing the man to go through his temper tantrum. _Almost_. But he knew better now, than Mossimo himself, that things needed to be said out aloud before they can move past it.

"Then why aren't you? Why do you sit there, tense and wary like an untried youth? Why have you not demanded my blood and those under my command for the insult we have lain at your feet? Why are you so uncaring for the affront we have brought to your family and your name?"

Any other time and he would've broken out the camera and recorded his normally stoic valet's epic meltdown for posterity and future blackmail's sake. And while he did feel a small kick from his conscience for his thoughts, as well as kick from the same conscience for not thinking about it more in advance, he had other matters to think about in the meantime. He could find other ways to induce a meltdown in Mossimo when things in his life finally settle down. For now, he must deal with his subordinates wounded pride as best and as quickly as possible.

"Would it have changed anything Mossimo?"

The words only made the chagrined expression on his valet's face even more pronounced and he bit down the automatic apology that yearned to slip past his lips. He knows he was hurting his faithful vassal—more so than necessary, but if he was to be truly Mossimo's leader, the man needs to learn that what his place should and would be in the grand scheme of life.

"_Cambierebbe qualcosa?__Disfare ciò che è già accaduto_?"

Would it change anything. Undo what has already occurred

"_Sarebbe almeno mi dia la possibilità di recuperare il mio onore!"_

It would at least give me a chance to regain my honor

Alessandro allowed himself the faintest of smiles—one that was unfortunately not missed by the already miserable Mossimo and interpreted—or in this case, misinterpreted by him, quite thoroughly. Unaware of this fact, he gave voice to his new-found realization and watched as his usually controlled valet loose his temper.

"You know, that's a singularly Eastern philosophy you live by Mossimo. It's interesting how no one has ever noted that before about your clan."

"Are you mocking me? Has my inefficiency caused you to reduce me to veiled slurs and vague platitudes? Are you now questioning the credo by which I've lived by all my life?"

"Mossimo, stop being such a drama queen. Such display is unbecoming of someone in your position."

"I am a vassal in the Corvino household. I am your valet, your second in command, I am the one who has stood by your for years and in all that time I have lived with the pride that I am doing my job—and in one night—I have lost my honor. And instead of punishing me and stripping me of my pride you sit before me composed and unconcerned as if the dishonor I have brought upon you is immaterial!"

"It is immaterial because as far as I am concerned, there is no dishonor for me to attach to your name and no need for me to impugn your honor, no room for me to complain. Truthfully, I don't understand why you of all people would be upset when I was the one taken out of my own stronghold with nary a twitch from anyone."

"Why do you think I'm bellowing like this? I am upset! I care for whatever godforsaken fate befalls you and all I am asking is why you haven't even shouted at me for what happened! Is that too much to ask for you to react with something more than stoic acceptance?"

Alessandro blinked. And then he blinked again. Mossimo was fuming and he needed to address the matter as quickly and efficiently as possible or else it would end up being a bigger clusterfuck than it already is. He needed his calm, quietly supportive and capable second hand and with time running out, he needed Mossimo more than ever. He also needed a way to calm him down quickly. With another heartfelt sigh, his hands tightening reflexively at the thin volume of mindless insanity he held in his hand, he tried explaining as gently as he could.

_"Quello è perché di la regola numero 4." _That's because of rule no. 4.

"Rule no. 4? What the fuck is Rule no 4?!"

Gently, he tipped the thin leather volume open and flipped it to the appropriate page, inviting Mossimo to peruse the page before him with a wave of his hand. Mossimo gave him one good, long glare before his eyes fell on the page and he started reading aloud.

* * *

**Regola Numero Quattro**

_Rule no. 4_

_**For those whose qualifications bestow upon them the ultimate prize of a personal endorsement from the House of Cavallone, fair warning is to be issued: you will end up at one point extracted, relieved, hauled, removed, taken, abducted, shanghaied, snatched and kidnapped at one point or another. **_

_**Please do not be alarmed. **_

_**It would also be in your best interest to head off any idea of retaliation from your subordinates as this would not be of merit to them or you.**_

_**Consider this as your final test.**__**When this hurdle is overcome—**__**you will be given a formal appointment for your meeting with the head.**_

_**This is by no means the easiest task. This is highly critical and arrangements should be made accordingly. **_

_**Have a copy of your notarized last will and testament prepared.**_

* * *

Alessandro watched his valet—the man he knew quite well to be capable of speed-reading documents at a decent 250 words per minute—stare at a single sheet of bound foolscap for close to two uncomprehending minute.

He was prepared to wait, of course. It was the only decent thing since when he was shown that particular page he did himself the practical and fabulous service of fainting. At least all Mossimo did was lose a shade of two in his complexion and imitate a landed carp. Truthfully, his valet was a truly admirable man.

The short, emphatic invective that he muttered when he did speak was a revelation to the young don and it made him crack a smile since having been so rudely woken up that day.

"_**Good-fucking Goddammit...!"**_

"Well…that's kinda vivid even for you but I think I said the same thing to the Cavallone when he told me about it."

Mossimo pointed at the page, his index finger hovering barely an eighth of an inch away from the paper's surface but by sheer force of will, even when his hand trembled, Mossimo's fingertips didn't so much as sigh on the very edge of the page.

"It's actually fucking there. Written down in fucking paper... immortalized by fucking ink on fucking vellum."

"Mossimo, you're quickly reaching your cursing quota."

"I have a fucking curse quota?"

"Yes…one you insisted I abide by since I was thirteen. You started a swear jar somewhere down the line after I cursed a blue streak at my latest tutor."

"The Sicilian that wanted to use a swatch of birch to 'discipline' you? The one that dressed like a fruitcake and smelled worse that an entire block of bordello mama's at sunset?"

"That one."

"Yes, well, you must admit my lord. THIS thing tops even THAT in sheer insanity."

"Yes. Frightful thing is, I think we're about to be subjected to something far worse."

"I'd advise you not to say that again my lord. The idea is fairly so disturbing I am actually, honestly, contemplating throwing myself out of this speeding car."

Alessandro gave his second in command and valet a gimlet look from his gold-green eyes and snorted.

"Why do you think I had the locks set since we sat in here? I don't want you escaping when I know full well I couldn't."

"You suck Boss."

"Yes, but consider this—if we die here, you wouldn't have to suffer under me for very long."

"Yes, but I'd probably end up dead with you and then who would I complain to?"

"Good point."

* * *

Though now both were clad in expensive, beautifully tailored black suits, the difference remained the same. Dino stared at the now more or else even keeled and fed young don and waited for him to speak. His blue eyes assessed the man that sat directly across from him, noting the hands that the man kept neatly on his lap, green-gold eyes staring at his opulent surroundings with near-believable indifference. Other than a single glance at his second-in-command, the newly crowned Don of the Corvino Famiglia gave no indication that he was anywhere he didn't want to be.

Dino was even more amused by the fact that the act of looking unconcerned and unflappable too such a toll on the young don that it took for the man a full minute to realize that he had begun to speak. Alessandro Corvino visibly jumped when Dino cleared his throat once more.

"Begging your pardon, Don Cavallone…I had—well, thoughts keep intruding…I apologize. Did you say something?"

"Merely inquiring what you were brooding about."came his quick reply. Corvino merely shrugged broad elegantly clad shoulders and affected a small conciliatory smile.

"Brooding seems a tad too strong a word for what I was indulging in. Though I confess to wondering about a great many things—one of which is why I actually allowed myself to be shanghaied by you again without any idea where in God's green earth you're taking me."

"I consider it a remarkable show of character and trust."

"Or idiocy."

"That too. But no matter. At least this time around you are not alone, right?"

Alessandro gave Mossimo another glance before inclining his head to the Cavallone Don with a short, deferential nod.

"That indeed, is something to be grateful for."

The Cavallone Don nodded before moving forward, forging his way towards the very heart of the opulent mansion where he directed for them to meet. The palatial structure was in various stages of renovation and here and there quick, loud arguments could be heard and what seemed like misplaced soft booming sounds that Alessandro quickly resolved not to think about too deeply. He simply moved to follow and keep track of the swift and sure-footed Cavallone.

"Today, I figured it's time to let you take a deeper plunge before I really put your mettle to the test."

"What do you mean by that Don Cavallone?"

"Oh, call me Dino. I told you that. Now, the head famiglia will be hosting a small gathering for their newest allied members three days from now. I intend for you to be included in the list of invitees. By the by, how many of those things have you read?"

Alessandro quietly thanked Mossimo's impeccable timing for discreetly holding on to his elbow to stall the would-be collision. He looked at the eager-looking Cavallone and tried to string together the confusing message that seemed to pour out of the powerful don's mouth with frightening ease.

"Things? Oh, you mean the rules in your journal. Well, I have skimmed through all of the pages, of course, but I must apologize since I haven't had the time to fully comprehend what it all means. But I am grateful since you did begin with the most important one after all and I—!"

The Cavallone interrupted him abruptly with a raised hand and a delighted look in his eyes.

"The most important one? Did you actually start at the end?"

Alessandro blinked uncomprehendingly at the man. His eyes flicked even towards Romario, the don's Chief Advisor, hoping for some clarity.

"The end? Of course not! I started naturally at number one which I assume is the best rule."

"Number one!? But that is-! Oh lord!"

The man dissolved into short, snorting chortles that shook his entire frame. Alessandro suffered through the sight with admirable control and waited until something intelligible came out of the clearly amused Cavallone Don.

"Don Cavallone! Don—I wish you would stop laughing so much like I loon. It's hard to convince myself that I must respect you when you laugh at the oddest things! Now I must insist that you make sense and do stop chortling so!"

Dino valiantly tried to control his amusement but the scandalized look in the young Don's face made the effort difficult. Mustering every ounce of his control, he wiped surreptitiously at the tears streaming out of his eyes and tried to marshall his senses once more.

"Do forgive me, Don Corvino, but I must've presented that book incorrectly."

Alessandro quickly whipped out the thin volume and gave it a short shake.

"You mean all this time this book is nothing more than-!"

"Again, you misunderstand me. The content is correct. Only the order of their importance was misrepresented."

"I'm afraid I do not understand."

"I can see that now. Please, shall we take a seat? I think there is still much we need to clear up before we can proceed.

"I think so too."

And so they followed Romario as the man lead them to a pair of magnificently carved oak double doors. Sweeping them open, he allowed them to all pass through before giving an order that coffee and light repast be prepared and ushered into the room before closing the doors behind him. Standing guard, he and Mossimo assumed their usual spots by the door as the two dons settled into a pair of armchairs artfully placed to face one another.

"Now, Don Cavallone, if you do not mind explaining."

"Oh yes, of course. May I?" He held out his hand for the thin volume and Alessandro for some reason, was reluctant to part with his only guide to the madness that has become his world. He shook his head and handed it over. Dino gave a small smile and allowed the pages to flip idly as he turned it in his hands.

"The rules in this book is not wrong Don Corvino so rest assured, you have not spent the better part of the month wasting your time."

"But you said-!"

"I said the order was wrong. The first rule that you read about—what was it?"

"**Timing is everything."**

Dino nodded appreciatively at the prompt reply.

"Just so. And while this is a cardinal rule when dealing with the Head Famiglia, timing, you will learn, indeed schedules and everything, hardly ever works seamlessly in that famiglia."

"But there is proof! There is after all the Testarossa Incident—isn't that proof positive of the validity of this rule being the very first?"

"While you are not wrong in citing the matter with the Testarossa famiglia—I'm afraid they are more the exemption rather than the rule. Truthfully, the list is rated from the lowest of importance—to the highest. Which means, so far, all the rules you have known, understood and I assume, seen and experienced thus far—I'm afraid to say, have been the tamest and easiest to follow."

Alessandro looked back at all that he had experience since the day Romario appeared with it at the Corvino family mansion. He recalled the shock of finding the tragic end to an established family. He recalled the shiver of apprehension that crawled up his spine at having inadvertently challenged the mysterious 'Foundation' of the Cloud guardian. He could still feel the cold sweat that broke upon his brow when he saw first-hand the kind of 'personalities' hovered close to the head of the most powerful famiglia in their world.

It shook him to the core to comprehend that all the rules he has learned and understood constituted a mere fraction of the immense madness that he was about to delve into. Alessandro wonders agitatedly what other 'rules' could possibly top those he had already struggled to acknowledge.

Dino, clearly interpreting the 'deer-in-the-headlight' look of panic that was currently possessing the young Corvino Don, took the time to wait for the man to gather his wayward thoughts. Calmly taking small sips of coffee from the cup Romario had handed him, he watched and waited patiently as Mossimo, the young don's seneschal and second-in-command handed a similar looking cup to his superior and speak softly to him. When Alessandro finally took a sip or two and released a ragged breath from pale lips, Dino decided the man has sufficiently recoved. He began to speak once more.

"I thought, perhaps, that exposing you to the others, one at a time would soften the shock."

"Shock Don Cavallone? I am afraid that nothing you can say will be anything but a shock to me so I am going to simply sit here and listen to it as stoically as possible. Surely, your endorsement was not intended to incapacitate me through madness and even if you were—I still have my two sisters to take over my place."

Dino gave out a proud smile at the display of perseverance on the part of the Corvino don. Toasting the man with his cup, he gave him a wicked grin and proceeded with his explanations with glee.

"Good man! Now that you're bound and determined to see this through, I think it would be best if you meet with some of the guardians now rather than have them sprung on you so suddenly. You see, they need some getting used to, so to speak."

Alessandro allowed himself to frown. He deserved that much, he was certain.

"Surely the personal guardians of a powerful man-any guardian behaves in much the same fashion as any other?"

Dino nodded. "That is of course the logical assumption regarding the matter. However, I am afraid even in this matter, the Vongola Famiglia guardians are less than expected."

"Do they not perform the usual duties and responsibilities of a guardian? Are they lacking in some manner that sets them apart?"

"Oh they do their duties, and splendidly, for some, I might add. The problem is not in their awareness of their duty, I'm afraid, but rather in their very nature and how they translate their duties through the varied aspect of their personalities."

"That is-unfathomable."

"Irrefutably, undeniably true."

"Will I survive tonight?"

"That question I leave to you. Goodluck, Don Corvino. And don't worry—we're prepared to pay for however much your therapy costs in the future."

Dino stood up abruptly and held out a hand to the man staring at him openly with such suspicion.

"You have no idea. Trust me, there is no way to explain them. Experiencing them is all that I can offer you by way of desensitization. Come with me, Don Corvino. Let me usher you in to the madhouse that is Vongola."


End file.
